She Stays
by jouissance
Summary: Can the lone bandit, Regina, be persuaded to join the Merry Men? Written for OQ Happy Ending Week Day 1.


**Happy Ending Week Day 1 - Bandit OQ**

* * *

There were hundreds of ways this day could have ended. Being tied to her competition in a cage barely big enough for one of them hadn't been something that had entered her mind. Yet here she was, back to back with the notorious Robin Hood with ropes rubbing her skin raw and her shins crammed up against the bars of their moving prison.

"We have to get out of here before we reach the main road. We'll never be able to lose them without the cover of the trees. I'm assuming you can climb a tree?" Robin asks with a lilt in his voice that is meant to drive her mad. This wasn't how he planned on ending his day either, but it's also not the first time he's been picked up by the Royal Guard (doubts very much it'll be the last) so he's not nearly as bothered by their current predicament as he's certain she is.

Regina had very little room to maneuver but still managed to dig her elbow into Robin's ribs. "I live in a tree, thief, or course I can climb one," she jabbed him one more time for good measure before going back to trying to wiggle her hands free.

"You live in a hollowed out log, I would hardly judge your climbing skills on something that's fallen to the ground."

"How do you think it got there?" she swung her head to the side in an attempt to look him in the eye while she yelled at him, but all she got was an eye full of stubble and a dimple.

"I stand corrected, Milady," he tried to still her hands with his own.

She wasn't getting very far with the ropes other than a nasty burn, but she pulled her fingers from his and swatted his hands as far away from his and they could go with them being pressed back to back. "I'm not a lady. Don't call me that."

"I was just being a gentleman, no need to be so defensive. What shall I call you then?"

"You could try my name."

"Alright then. Regina," he emphasizes each syllable and swears he can hear the eye roll it garners from her, "my men are about to break us out of here are you ready to run?"

"How could you possibly know that?"

He leaned his head back until it rested on her shoulder, until he could speak directly into ear without being overheard by the guards. "That's John's arrow we just passed in the tree. They'll be waiting around the next curve. We'll have to be ready."

His confidence in is merry band of misfits astounded her. He wasn't saying that to get her hopes up, to encourage her or lead her on in anyway. They would be there because he knew they wouldn't leave him behind. She let herself wonder for a moment what that must be like. Trust. It was a luxury she could never afford. He's pulling at her hands, must have been for a bit while her mind had wandered. "Help me loosen these ropes," he says quietly and she shifts as best she can, pushes herself against his back until they're shoulder to shoulder and there's a little more give to their binds.

"I can barely feel my legs," she tries to move her feet up to the bars, leverage herself between him and the wall so she can kick whatever unfortunate person comes near their prison door.

"My arse went numb about 3 miles ago," he confesses as he finally manages to pull her wrist free from the last loop. She laughs as she makes quick work of the rest of the rope, leaving it hidden between them. "So you do have a sense of humor?" he chides.

"Only at your expense," she assures him, but can't hide the smile on her face. She's grateful he can't see her at the moment, grateful she doesn't have to keep it in.

"I can hear you smiling, you know," he teases, always teasing, always taunting her and driving her absolutely insane. She'll never admit that she loves it. He's about to go for another jab about her inability to have a human conversation when her head turns sharply at the sound of a bird call she's never heard before. "That'll be the calvary, then." He eases himself deeper into the cage trying to give her even another inch of room for leverage and hooks his arms around hers tightly.

The rest is a blur. The carriage slows, the guards all to predictably come to check on the security of their prisoners. Regina slams her feet into the door, knocking it wide open and knocking the guard to the dirt. Someone pulls her out, she doesn't know who, but she gets a good swing in before they drop her to the ground. Robin is yelling something but there are arrows flying and boots stomping, the shrill cry of scared horses and that awful, burning pain in her knee. Too hard then, she realizes too late that the gate would have succumb to much less of a kick, but what can she say? Regina doesn't like being caged.

All four guards are down, their horses and valuables liberated in a matter of moments. "Are you coming?" Robin asks from atop one of the Queen's horses, his hand reaching down to help her up.

"I'll make my own way," she tosses her braid over her shoulder and surveys the chaos his men just caused. "Thanks for the rescue."

"Are you really that stubborn?" he's scolding her now, they don't have a lot of time and he'll be damned if he leaves her here to be caught again. "They aren't dead," he tells her and when she eyes him curiously he elaborates. "The guards. We don't kill them unless it's absolutely necessary. Most of them don't have a choice in their employment."

"How very noble of you." She tries to sound indifferent, but she's surprised at their mercy. He's right, most of these Black Knights were common men ripped from their families and forced into servitude; they don't deserve to be held accountable for the crimes of the deranged Queen.

"My point is, Regina," he says her name again and she hopes he can't tell how much she likes the way it sounds coming from his lips, "that they're going to be awake very soon and you're not going to get very far on that knee." He reaches down a few more inches, knowing her pride will have her holding out until the last possible moment before she looks away and let's him haul her onto the back of the horse. Mercifully he makes no mention of the whimper that escapes her before she can bite back the pain.

They ride hard for the better part of an hour, twisting and turning through the woods, leaving no inclination of any followable trail until their leader, a big, burly man that Regina was surprised even fit on a horse raises his hand and they all slowed to a walk. She peaks out from behind Robin to see the silent exchange take place: long looks given, eyebrows raised, shoulders shrugged until they all looked at Robin expectantly.

"They're seems to be a bit of a debate on whether or not to trust you, Milady." He knows she hates the moniker, but it suits her and riles her at the same time so the thief so no reason not to keep using it. "You see, we are about to enter a camp that has been hidden from the rest of the world for years, whose location is only known by the men here."

"And you think I'd betray you to the queen?" She's insulted. Has half a mind to get off this horse and leave these self righteous fools right here, except that she has no idea where 'here' is. "In case you didn't notice I was in the same cage as he was," she yells so they all can hear. "I have no love for the queen nor she for me. Even if I could lead her to your super secret forest-dwelling hideaway, I'd die before I'd give _anyone_ up to her cruelty."

"Satisfied?" Robin asks his men before turning back to wink at Regina. He trusts her, she realizes. Without any reason too, he was going to bring her to his camp whether they agreed or not. She doesn't know what to do with that.

"Good enough for me," the big one turns his horse and trots on through the trees. They all follow single file with Robin and Regina bringing up the rear.

"I meant that," she tells him just before they enter, "I won't betray you."

"You wouldn't be here if I thought you would. You don't have to do everything alone, Regina. We're on the same side here, might as well be on the same side together, don't you agree?"

"I've never really done ' _together'_ ," she tells him quietly, honestly. "I'm not sure how I'd be at it."

"Well, there's only one way to find out. Stay the night. Let Tuck take a look at your knee, have a decent meal for a change. If in the morning, you decide that you detest our forest-dwelling company, I will personally take you back to your log."

"That sounds…" She never finishes her thought as they finally make their way to the center of the camp. Except it's not really a camp at all, at least not in the way she had always assumed. It's a damned town set up in the middle of the forest. Her mouth is still hanging open when the big guy comes to the side of their horse, offering his hand to help her down.

"Little John, Regina. Regina, Little John," Robin introduces him and Regina laughs in spite of herself.

"Little?" She's still chuckling as he lifts her off the horse as if she was light as a feather then takes the horse from Robin without a word, as soon as the thief dismounts. "Does he not like me?" Regina asks when John is out of earshot.

"He's cautious. It's not often we have newcomers here. This" he sweeps his arm to encompass the cobbled together buildings and people milling about between them, "is John's creation. He's quite protective of it. And quite proud," he adds and Regina can hear that pride in his voice.

"He should be. It's...well, it's impressive. I may have misjudged you." She lets herself relax a bit, even lets him help her hobble over to where this Tuck will 'have her fixed up in no time', or so she's told as he leaves her to the care of the older man. One night, she reminds herself as her knee is put back in its place and her mind starts to go blissfully numb from the tea Tuck has placed in her hands. One night and it's back to being on her own.

* * *

She wasn't going to stay. Absolutely was not, but they'd patched her up, placed bowl after bowl of hot stew in one hand an a cold mug of ale in the other and Regina had caved quickly. One night had turned into seven before she even realized it. She told herself it was her knee, that she needed to wait until she was fully healed before making the trek back. Then she told herself that it was getting too dark to travel the distance back to her camp, then too cold. Every night as she let _them_ convince her to stay was another perfectly acceptable reason to avoid the one thing she would never admit: she's lonely.

Night 8 was fast approaching as Regina eyed the perfectly clear sky. She could go now. The weather was good, her knee much better. She could go. But Little John had just returned with 2 turkeys in each hand and there was bound to be a feast tonight to rival the dinners of the nights before (which were far better than anything she'd had since she was a girl.) Maybe she'll leave tomorrow. First thing in the morning.

She was still mulling it over when Robin came to sit at her side, sliding a piece of apple pie between them. "John has quite the feast planned for this evening, but I've never seen the harm in starting with dessert." He hands her a fork he pulls from his pocket and begins to dig into the pie as she just stares at him.

"Why do you do this?" she's wanted to know since the first time he foiled her in a heist, but never had the opportunity to ask.

"Eat?" he answers around a mouth full of pie.

"Live in the woods," she corrects, sampling the pie for herself. "Steal. All of it."

"Why do you?"

"Necessity!" she says a bit too loudly, drawing the attention of a few nearby, but they quickly go about their business.

"It couldn't be the same for me?"

"You could be anything. Or nothing. You're educated, you try to hide it but I can tell. You grew up with money, a roof over your head, food in your belly. Probably servants to bring you that food. But you live out here, like this, when you have options. You have a son! You could be anything and you're this." It comes out more accusatory than she intends, but Regina can't fathom why anyone would chose this life on the run.

"I never wanted to lord over a house and I found noble life to be quite dull," he tells her, scrapping the rest of the pie from the plate. He can tell she's not buying it, but to his own shock, he finds that he wants to tell her more. "If you must know, I fell in love."

"Roland's mother," she fills in easily.

"Yes. She was training to be a seamstress, a wretched one. Couldn't sew a straight line to save her life. But I loved her. Hopelessly. And my father didn't approve of me associating with anyone so far below my station let alone loving them. So we left."

"What happened to her?" she's been here a week, fallen madly in love with his curly haired son who follows her everywhere, but there's been no sign of his mother.

"She died bringing Roland into the world," his voice breaks at the end. After all this time the pain and helplessness he felt are still fresh in his heart.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"Thank you. I don't mind talking about her. She was a good woman. Worth far more than the daft heiresses I was intended to marry. After she passed I found myself alone with an infant who needed to eat. John found me trying to steal milk from a cow-"

"Saddest sight you'll ever see is Robin tryin' ta milk a cow while holdin' a babe," John says as he walks by with newly plucked turkey's in tow. "Someone had to take pity on the poor lad."

"Thank you, John," Robin flushes at the memory, shakes his head as John retells it to anyone who will listen. "I'm sure she gets the picture. Anyway, we've been together ever since. Will joined us shortly after and the others have just kept coming. We're a merry band of misfits trying to do a bit of good in the world while staying out of its way."

"How very _noble_ of you."

He tips his fork to her at that, scoots just a bit closer so that their knees bump under the table. The conversation turns lighter as the sky turns dark. They talk of heists they've pulled, near misses and easy marks. The best way to mount a moving horse, how to properly roast a rabbit. Roland comes with flowers for her hair and won't leave without a promise that she'll tell him another story about slaying dragons before he goes to bed.

She laughs. She hasn't laughed in years.

She stays.


End file.
